Wait Not, Want Not
by lielabell
Summary: Sometimes love isn't worth the wait. Written for Perving4Snape and has slight smut. It is finished as is.


He had been shocked the first time he saw her standing in her old place across the circle from him shocked how old feelings curled inside his stomach; shocked by the heartache and the way her unique scent of sunshine and herbs still clung to her.

That scent had taunted him down the halls of Hogwarts and wrapped around him in bed at night. And now, years later, it reminded him of things that should have been. Even if he had been blind he would have recognized her by scent alone.

But he had his sight still and so he drank in every drop of her. Taking in the good with the bad, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that his weakness for her would cost him everything. He attempted to see her shape under her robes, tried to find some hint of the girl he knew in the curve of her mouth. Then he regained his control and shifted his eyes away from her.

He glance**d** from face to face, keeping his eyes trained on theirs, ferreting out their secrets in hopes of coming across something useful. For what seemed like hours he scanned the minds of the inner circle. Then, without even meaning to, his gaze once again fell on her and all thought of practicing legilimency left him.

Looking out at him through the holes in the mask where her fathomless eyes. He would know them anywhere. How could he not? At one time they had been all he lived for, all he wanted from life. Those tawny orbs had fascinated him the way only a carefully brewed potion did now, and he had willingly given in to their power. At one point in his life they had smiled lovingly at him. That had been a lifetime ago. Now they were narrowed into untrusting slits, glinting madly in the moonlight.

In his mind he saw her young and full of life, with her thick black hair billowing in the breeze and her golden eyes dancing with laughter. Nothing could change that. He would stand there, staring right at her, and in his mind he would change her back into the vision of his youth, carefully painting over the harsh realities with loving strokes.

Seeing her like this was torture. Not that it had even been different, but then the pain had been cause by longing for what he could never have. Watching her in the arms of another man had been like having his heart ripped out, but watching her slowly feeding on herself hurt a thousand times more. He liked to think that if she had defied her family, if she had run to him as he asked her, then she  
would not be in this state. He knew it was a lie, though. Her heart was far more committed to the cause more than it had ever been to him. Whatever feelings she had kept in that cold heart of hers would not have stopped her. But still, he liked to think that as his wife she would have been protected.

He pulled his mind away from those thoughts. It would be unwise to dwell on them. Nothing weakened him like she did. His eyes darkened and he felt his nose wrinkle with self**-**loathing. What a fool he had been then. So willing to give his heart over to her greedy hands, so easily tricked into thinking that what she claimed to have felt for him would matter.

He frowned, then his mouth softened. It would not do to show emotion here. Any sign of weakness was instantly preyed upon. These were uncertain times and a Death Eater thought nothing of unmasking a brother in arms if it meant some small personal gain. He clamped down on the fear prickl**ing** the back of his mind and instead focused on the false information Dumbledore told him last night.

He waited until it was his turn to report, and then he made his way to his master's feet and prostrated himself in front of the deformity. His back arched as the Dark Lord sent bolt after bolt of searing pain through him in an attempt to see if **his** words were untrue. When it was over he returned to his spot within the circle and stood on quivering legs trying to forget the sound of her laughter joined with the others.

He knew better than to let it affect him **H**er long stint in Azkaban had refined her taste for cruelty to the point where the witch he once loved no longer existed, but **he** still **felt** the sting of it. He started scanning the carefully blank faces again. He was just about to ferret something of interest out of Dolohov when the feeling of being watched broke his concentration.

His legendary temper strained and then snapped as he whipped his head around to glare at the offending party. His sneer faded as she winked saucily at him. His breath hitched and suddenly he was swept back to his seventh year.

She had winked at him then, before lights out. **H**er hair **was** down around her shoulders and her tie loosened. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses and her eyes were heavy**-**lidded with desire. She had leaned back from him, flashed him that dimple on her left cheek and then winked. Slow and deliberate, just like everything else she did.

He shuddered. This childish longing would never do. It wasn't as if they had shared much more than stolen moment. He always felt that his need for Bella should have been based on something more than that. His eyes **then** flickered towards Isabella Parkinson and he snorted. It didn't matter that she had been his first, no man could be obsessed with a pug-nosed shrew like her.

Snape closed his eyes. Behind them another image from the past form**ed**. **She was** splayed across his bed. He had her shirt unbuttoned and her full breasts were hardly hidden by the scrap of lace she called a bra. Her skirt had ridden up her legs with help from his hands and her knickers were in a ball on the floor. The fingers of one hand were gently stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh while the other teased her nipples. She moaned into his mouth and thrust her hips up **to** him, silently begging him to do what he would not.

He resisted the urge to laugh. What a fool he had been. If he had access to a time turner he would **give** his younger self and give him **a** valuable piece of advice: throw nobility out the window and fuck Bellatrix Black. Then maybe he wouldn't have wasted all these years to find out that she hadn't been worth the wait.

His gaze drifted back to where she stood, her spine straight and her eyes glassy. Her mouth opened and her clever tongue darted out to lick her lips. She looked nothing more like a lizard tasting the air for fear. Yes, he had been shocked when he saw her. Shocked to learn that the vision that haunted his dreams had fade**d** into a wraith. Shocked that she smelled the same, but not at all surprised to learn that she didn't taste as sweet.


End file.
